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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23712937">Here We Go Again</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawaiiyuta/pseuds/kawaiiyuta'>kawaiiyuta</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Friends With Benefits, Love/Hate, Nakamoto Yuta is Whipped, Nakamoto Yuta is a Little Shit, let me know if you want more, might be a oneshot, not sure yet - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:15:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>914</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23712937</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawaiiyuta/pseuds/kawaiiyuta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You fall in and out of bad habits and you're convinced Yuta is one of them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nakamoto Yuta/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Here We Go Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>What’s that smell? What time is it? I look at the clock on the bed side table, it blinks, “1:43.” Glancing out the window, it’s dark outside, must be AM. Groggily I roll over onto my back, stretching upwards I suddenly feel the cool air in the bedroom rush against my exposed stomach. I quickly clutch the bedsheets closer to my chest for even an ounce of warmth “Ugh, why did I not wear a shirt?” I groan to myself.</p><p>“Because you fell asleep once we were done.” At the sound of his voice I close my eyes tight, instantly reminded of the haze that had been my night. Got off work, went home, downed a couple beers, and like always, called him. Why was I like this? So damn predictable. “You’re cute when you sleep,” he continues unprompted. <br/>I roll back over on my side. Looking at him standing shirtless in my bedroom doorway. “Who asked you to watch me while I sleep, creep?” Why him, why did I always call him? Suddenly I realize what the smell was. “Are you eating my pizza rolls?!” I spring up towards up as he quickly runs toward the living room. “You asshole! Those are the last of my pizza rolls!” He’s maniacally laughing with a mouthful of the greasy delicious guilty pleasures. “Yuta. I swear to God, if you don’t fucking drop those last three pizza rolls I will never call you for sex ever again.” </p><p>He pauses at this. Then the repulsive smirk reappears on his face, “you don’t believe in a God,” he then immediately stuffs all three pizza rolls in his face. I grab the nearest pillow off the couch and throw it directly at his head. He feigns innocence with his cheeks full of the tiny pockets of pepperoni and cheese.<br/>“Great. Fuckin great, Yuta. What the hell am I supposed to eat?” He snakes his arm around my bare stomach, hands touching lovingly. I shove them away with a scoff, “You just scarfed down 15 pizza rolls by yourself, you’re disgusting.”</p><p>He swallows the large bite of pizza while pulling on his pants, “Come on, get dressed. I’ll take you out.” He pulls his loose sweatshirt over his bare chest. As he pulls it over his head his insane, deep box-red, bedhead flops out even messier than before. “Come on! Get dressed!”</p><p>Beyond annoyed and exhausted, I roll my eyes at his theatrics, “It’s one in the goddamn morning what the hell do you expect to get?” Even though I’m actively challenging his idea, I reluctantly pull on my earlier discarded pants, quickly followed by a loose fitting knit sweater. </p><p>He watches as I pull my hair up into a messy bun, “You’re so cute. You know that, right?” I signal a barfing motion, pretending to gag. He’s cute, sure, but getting close to him? Why would I, he’ll just leave eventually. “Come on cute-butt, I’ll take you to get your favorite thing in this world.” They all do.</p><p>“Wow big spender! Taking me to get the thing you just ate all of!” I reply, my voice dripping in sarcasm. Even as I’m making fun of him though, I’m pulling on my black high tops, wrapping the laces around the top once and tying with bunny ears. I suppose the least he can do is replace the damage.</p><p>“Hey, if you don’t want more pizza rolls, I can just leave and come back the next time you call me needing a fuck buddy.” He opens the door pretending to leave without me.<br/>Grabbing my keys off the counter I catch up to him, shutting and locking the apartment door behind me. “Listen, I never said I didn’t want the pizza rolls. I’m dressed, am I not? Just know that you’re buying me an entire family sized pack of those fuckers.” He squishes my bun in defiance. It’s a well-known fact about me that I would die for pizza rolls, the only food I would eat when I was 10. Yuta knows this, it was rule number one when I started letting him come to my apartment instead of always sneaking my way out of his, to avoid disturbing his roommates. I see what he’s doing and it’s not going to work. He’s trying to get closer to me, do domestic things and weasel his way to boyfriend status. </p><p>“Hey, you awake in there?” Yuta waves his hand in front of my face, “we’re here. Let’s go get some pizza rolls, babe.” Ugh babe why was he trying to make this work? It never will. Two different worlds, Yuta.</p><p>We climb out of his car and walk into the only 24 hour grocery store in town. I pass a fitting mix of druggies and new parents in the store as I make my way to the familiar freezer section with Yuta in tow. I open the door, grab the family sized pack of the combination flavor and shove it in his direction. “Here, these ones. I want the delicious ones, then you can drop me off at my place and go home and never touch my goddamn pizza rolls again or you’re on hiatus from my apartment.” Surprised at my sudden outburst, he just grabs the pizza rolls silently and walks to the check out. I’m not getting close, not again. I just want to eat my salty, greasy, pizza rolls in peace, and burn my tongue in the process.</p>
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